Peter's Smile
by nhutcheson
Summary: Wendy returns to Neverland, to find Peter is 17 and a little more dangerous than he used to be. One Shot


Nicole Hutcheson

Peter's Smile

"Do you remember the mermaids?" He whispered to me. Had there been mermaids? That was so many years ago. I think I was about five, back then, the first time in Never Land. Now that I have watched my childhood come and slip away, I almost had myself convinced all of this was a dream. But only almost. One can't easily forget the grandest adventure of their life. Over the years, reality had mixed with my dreams and I couldn't tell them apart. I asked myself again, had there been mermaids?

I looked over at the young man who laid besides me on the rock as we looked over the water. He still looked my age, about seventeen. But I thought he never grew up. His copper hair stuck out in all directions, casting shadows on his sharp cheek bones and revealing his pointed ears. His tanned skin no longer covered a child like body, but one of a young man who spent every day outside. The muscles in his legs were long and wiry, holding him tall. He had given up this skeleton leaf attire, for a more mature one. If this was Peter Pan, he was not the same boy from my memories, the boy version of himself.

"No, I don't believe I do," I whispered back to him. He turned his eyes on me and smiled. I swear when he smiled the stars shined back in return. It seems as though the land is still his. Never Land belonged to Peter.

Just then, the star light was reflected in the water. Brilliant, pearl scales twisted below us.

"Look!" He proclaimed quietly. He leaned closer to the water, daring himself to fall. "Nerissa," he called into the unknown void.

The water rippled, throwing the light in different directions. Out of the little waves rose a face. Her hair was plastered against her head, dark in the night. Her eyes were a brilliant blue green, and they looked directly at Peter.

"Peter," she said. Approaching him, she reached out of the water. Her hand wasn't wrinkled, which made me wonder if it was the water or the mermaid. I dared a glance at Peter and noticed he was still smiling. His smile, however, had a hint of mischief in it. Nerissa's hand slowly found Peter's cheek as she looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with love and lust. Her big lips parted, then came back together. She smiled playfully and batted her thick eye lashes.

"One thing about us mermaids," she said to him and she pulled herself up out of the water a little, "never trust us." She grabbed one of Peter's upper arms and pulled back hard. I shrieked in surprise.

"One thing about me," he said loudly, "never play me." He ripped his arm away from her hands and spun away. I had backed away by this time and was never breathing heavily. I think I remember the mermaids now.

Laughter so filled with joy and triumph broke the air. I had to look up to make sure it was Peter. He smiled down at me and asked, "Why are you scared?" Concern filled his face and he bent down beside me. "I didn't mean to scare you, Wendy," he said.

I had to smile slightly at this. "No, I'm fine. Just spooked, that's all," I assured him.

Relief flooded him and he asked, "Want to see the Lost Boys now?" The Lost Boys? What were their names? Curly, the Twins, Slightly. So, I could recall my adventures here. I nodded and took hold of Peter's hand.

Flying was like it was in my dreams: soaring, weightless, and filled with child like wonder. Peter took us spinning through clouds and diving toward the waters below. My hair was blown back behind me and rippled in the wind. Our laughter mixed with the sounds of the world speeding away from us as we took on the next adventure as it came.

The Hideout was in a big tree. Vines had grown in, wrapping themselves around the tree and hugging it tightly. I couldn't have picked it out if I tired: it looked like all the other trees. Peter led me under a big root and into a tunnel that twisted to the left once, then the right. He stopped and I ran into his back.

"Whoa, careful there," he joked. Peter tinkered with something I couldn't see in the darkness and after a few _pops_ and _cranks _a door slid open to reveal the inside. "Oh Lost Boys!" Peter called into Hideout. Out of nowhere came about thirteen boys. They ranged in ages, some closer to my age and some that looked around the age of seven. To my left there a was a giant bed like thing, Peter's I guessed. Around the room were more beds, smaller and some were even bunk beds. A kitchen like area was in front of me. Behind me to the right were stair that led up and down. The floor was carpeted and the walls were wooden. It was a little messy. Occasional clothes on the floor, random items. But for the most part it was tidy enough.

One of the older Lost Boys gasped as he looked at me hard, questions in his eyes. "Peter," he said, "She looks familiar…" His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. Messy blonde hair, light freckles, huge amber eyes. Slightly.

"Slightly," I smiled. His eyes widened with shock.

"We've met before. When? Why do I know your face?" He questioned.

Peter smiled. Peter liked knowing more than his Lost Boys. None of them were allowed to know more than Peter. Slightly turned his eyes quickly to Peter, searching for an answer but finding nothing. Another boy approached me. He was about the same age as Slightly. He was a little bigger than the rest of the boys, stronger maybe.

"Bird? You're the…Wendy Bird," he finished quietly. Then, recognition filled his face as he proclaimed, "Wendy!" He threw his arms around me and laughed.

"Wendy!" Slightly followed suit of the boy I remembered to be Curly. Three or four more boys joined in the hug. I couldn't remember some of them. The Twins were unmistakable, obviously.

"Enough of that, I say," said Peter. The Boys backed away next to the other boys who hadn't come to hug me. Most of them were smiling, some of them were looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Boys," Peter started, "this is Wendy. She came here some number of year ago when we were children." He looked down the line and over to me. "See came to visit again. And I expect that you will treat her like a lady!" He flashed a daring smirk. "Or else…"

"Oh, Peter," I giggled. He really was too much.

"Now, Wendy," he strut toward me while speaking, "you are a lady, aren't you?"

All eyes were on us. "Well, yes."

"And we are gentleman, are we not?" He asked the Lost Boys.

"Uhm?" said Slightly. "Peter, Wendy is the first and last Lady we've had here, besides the princess and Hannah, but I don't' think they count."

"Especially not Hannah," a boy I didn't know said. His jaw was set and his face was hard. Who was Hannah?

"Lads!" Peter shouted. "We are gentleman!" he assured them. "We will act like it. Now, are we not gentleman?" he asked again.

"We are gentleman!" Some of them shouted.

But their cheers were cut short by a scream from outside. It was followed by silence from all of us in the Hideout and another call of "Father!"

At that word the Lost Boys moved, fast and sure. Peter was whisper-shouting directions and telling some of the younger boys to stay behind. They frowned, but stayed put. The Twins were the first to ready themselves. They had grown much taller, taller than Peter even, and Peter is tall. They couldn't carry each other on their shoulders any longer, but the memory made me smile. Dirk and Dash, Peter called them sometimes. But they were mostly just called "Twins." Next was Slightly and a boy I couldn't place. He was younger, but still walked like he had been there forever.

"Wendy!" Peter turned to me in despair, like he had forgotten I was there in all the excitement. "Do you want to come, or stay?" He asked.

The smarter part of me told myself to stay. Stay and be safe and protected. But the adventurer in me told me to go. I never turned down a good adventure.

"I want to go," I said. "I want to." I looked into Peter's eyes. His golden eyes were filled with passion. This is what he lived for: adventure.

"Stay by me, don't move unless I say. I don't want to lose you again," he added at the end. Lose me? What does he mean?

"I'm not going anywhere," I said.

"Promise? Promise on my life? Do you remember what happens if you break a promise in Never Land?" He was whispering this inside my ear as the world continued to spin around us. Our world had stopped for that moment. "Promise you'll never go," he said.

"Never is an awfully long time," I whispered back into his ear. He pulled back slightly to look me in the eyes. For a second, he was questioning. But because he was Peter Pan, he smiled his brilliant smile at the memory of the last time I said those words. The first time we met. The first time we flew together. Our first "kiss."

Peter leaned forward and kissed my cheek. It was quick, playful and yet passionate. Our world had caught up to the world around us and the Boys had stopped what they were doing and looked at Peter and I. Shocked would be an understatement. I blushed red at the sight of their faces. Peter smiled, mischievously.

"What's the matter boys? Never seen a kiss before?" He joked at them. None of them answered, they just kept looking at us. After a few seconds, Peter said, "Well, are you ready?"

"Ready, Peter," reported Slightly.

"Let us be on our way then," he took my hand and led the Lost Boys and out the door. Carefully and quietly we moved toward the yelling. It was coming from above us, like someone caught in a tree.

"Peter, who could it be?" asked Curly.

"I'll give you one guess," Peter said as we came up on the shouts. Before the boy could answer, Peter said, "Hannah." We had broken through the trees and a girl hung by her ankle in the air about us.

Hannah was a blonde, pretty girl. She had blue eyes and looked to be in Pirate attire. Wait, Pirate?

"Peter, why is she dressed like a Pirate?" I asked him.

"Oh, you don't know her. Wendy, this is Hannah. Hook's daughter," he finished with his teeth gritted. Hook had a daughter? She looked to be about 13 or 14. "Hannah," he called up to her sarcastically, "meet Wendy."

Hannah stopped struggling for a moment. She pulled her long hair out of the way and scowled down at us. "What is she? What is she doing here? Would you let me down, Pan? My father will have your head!" She shrieked.

"A girl, none of your business, not gently, and I doubt it," he answered her. The Lost Boys laughed. All of them were staring daggers into this girl.

"PAN!" She shouted again. "Pan, please. Please, don't hurt me." She begged with him. Why would Peter hurt her? Peter fought the Pirates, but he wouldn't hurt a girl...would he?

"Peter, let her go," I told him.

"No! No, Wendy. You don't know the things she's done!" He looked hurt that I even suggested that. How could I have known what she's done. "She has killed Lost Boys, Wendy. KILLED. Murdered. She has taken lives. She has betrayed us!"

"And every time we get this close, every time we try to get revenge," a Twin got cut off, because Hannah said, "My father always saves me."

I laughed a little, then I couldn't help myself, so I laughed a lot.

"What? What is so funny? Please, enlighten me," Peter said, eye brows raised.

"It's just…it's just that…Since when did you let the Pirates win?" I asked him.

Peter's eyes got bigger and he looked taken aback.

"I…they… Not this time. Not this time!" He turned away from me, and looked up at Hannah. "You are dying today, Hannah! DYING! For all the lives you've taken! Do you hear me, Hannah? DEAD." He yelled at her. Anger had never come slowly to Peter. His nostrils were flaring and he was breathing hard. "Cut her down," he commanded.

The Twins moved over to where the rope was tied. One hard smack of an ax against a tree and Hannah was falling some ten feet to the ground. She landed with a sharp crack that made me spine crawl. She screamed, loudly. It was a scream so full of pain, I could feel it in my heart.

I pressed my lips together and Peter stomped over to her and pulled her head up be a fist full of hair. He pressed his cheek up against her temple, not looking at her. Anger and hate were in his eyes. Tear now were starting to come from my eyes. Could this be the Peter Pan I knew? The one I dreamed about. The one I love?

"There's no escape, Hannah. This is it. No one is coming to save you." Peter said through clutched teeth.

"Peter, what's it like to die?" Hannah asked in a shaky voice. Tears ran from her eyes and her wrist was twisted in an unnatural position. Her red lips quivered and her chest heaved. Her body shook.

Peter's brow knit together for a moment. Then he smiled. The world seemed brighter, happier, lovelier when he smiled. "Why fear death? Death is the greatest adventure of all."

A small whimper escaped Hannah's lips. Peter then looked at her. For a moment it seemed like he was going to allow her to live. But no sooner had the thought came into my mind then I realized how wrong I was. Peter's dagger went into Hannah's chest. She tried to screamed, but couldn't. A sickening sound came from her before her heart stopped beating. Blood rolled down her top and out of her mouth, her eyes opened but no longer there. Her soul wasn't with her, what was the need for the windows?

I had never seen anyone die this way. I had never seen someone's life leave their body. Never heard the pained noised they made before it was over. Never saw their life blood. Peter slowly let go of her hair and lowered her to the ground. He didn't say anything as he stood and looked at me. His face was hard and his eyes were filled with grief.

"It had to happen, Wendy." I walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me. I didn't want to be here. Did she have to die?

"How old were they? How old were the boys she murdered?" I asked.

Peter sighed and took a step back. The other Lost Boys had come closer to us, but were still armed and poised to fight. "Nicholas was fourteen. David, he was so brave, was five. Tony, one of the other Lost Boy's brothers, was ten. And Mark was seventeen." He looked up to the sky, as to see what time it was. "We have to get back. They should be coming now," he took my hand again and started walking. The Boys followed suit, but never lowered their weapons. What had happened to Never Land?

"Peter, I have another question," I told him quietly, still thinking of Hannah.

"What is it, Wendy?" he said.

"Peter, I thought you could never grow up. I thought that's why Never Land existed. I thought that's why you are here. But, you're older. You're my age still. And the Boys have grown, too. What happened?" I gushed to him.

He pressed his lips into a line and glanced at me. "Just because your body grows up, doesn't mean you lose your magic."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Have you ever wondered why only children can see the good in some situations? Why they are always moved to tears? How they can laugh and it can be pure and good? How they hurt for others and not themselves? How they look upon things with the greatest of hopes and the biggest of dreams? How they aren't scarred or burned by anyone? That is their magic. That is what keeps them youthful. With that, they never grow up." He smiled and I smiled. Peter's smile was a most contagious thing.


End file.
